Splintered Consort
by ElrueFaerie
Summary: 100 years after the 456 have left Jack returns to Earth one more time, where he finds something he believed could only have existed in his deepest darkest nightmares.
1. The Uncovering

Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood, its characters, or it's backstory. This is not for Profit, I just like to write.

Warning: Season 3 Spoilers like you wouldn't believe. In fact, if you haven't seen all 5 episodes, you will be very lost.

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THE UNCOVERING

February 13, 2110

"Jack? Jack, we've got another one."

A manila folder fell in front of Jack with a soft 'slap' as he sat up in his chair. He opened it to see photos of yet another gruesome murder, the fifth one in a week. He scanned over the information Tilden had brought up to him with reproach. Nothing ever changes.

It had been about 100 years since the demise of Torchwood Three, and yet the government had somehow revived the mission during Jack's absence. The notes in the digital archives had been reduced to a small cover up over the incidents surrounding 456. It was a fake report claiming instead that the explosion which decimated Torchwood Three had been a targeted attack by the alien species themselves, and not Parliament. However, the rift activity did not subside and Parliament had re-enforced the program in 2012. Jack had felt as though he had been away from Earth for nearly 350 years on a bright little planet called "Claret" before he had begun to wonder what became of the blue planet he had once been so fond of. It was with some regret that he'd found out upon his return 350 years on "Claret" had only barely equaled 90 Earth years.

However, it was not the same Earth or the same Britain that he had left. The world had fallen into chaos after his abandonment. The streets of London were cracked and battle scarred from decades of war in the last fifty years. Little had been done to reconstruct the larger cities, and the smaller towns had simply decomposed. The sky maintained a murky grey every day, because the sun was already beginning to burn out. Jack gave it another 2,000 years before the black hole began and the human race would either relocate or be obliterated.

There was nothing left for him here, nothing to save, and nothing to care for. Yet he found himself stuck to one spot each time he tried to leave again. Wales still held too many painful memories. At first, he had attempted to return to the United States, but there was not much for him to do there, no rifts or time portals around to quell, no alien landings or odd occurrences to investigate. At every turn, in Japan and even Africa, something brought him back to the United Kingdom. He couldn't explain it, but it pulled on his soul, tearing at his emotions, invading his nightmares until he once again stood on British soil. Jack couldn't bring himself to leave again. There had always seemed to be a reason he traveled and stayed wherever he went; similar to the Doctor's serendipitous adventures, but without a notepad or some kind of calling to reach out to him. He couldn't even bring himself to change his alias. Somewhere, deep down, it still held meaning for him. Dammit, he was getting soft. He had several lifetimes ahead of him. What were a few years to waste here one last time?

Soon after deciding that his landing on Earth was indeed his homecoming, Jack had set out to find what had happened to those he knew. Except, he realised with heaviness in his chest and a burning shame; the only people whom he had left alive were Gwen and Rhys. He couldn't bring himself to look up what had become of his daughter. There was no reason to after what he had done. Gwen, it turned out, had given birth to a baby girl whom she and Rhys had named 'Tosh,' after the fall of their teammate, Toshiko. Both adults had died twenty-six years after, in the Fourth World War. Tosh it seemed had never married, there so grimly ending the Williams' lineage when she passed of old age not soon before Jack's arrival. Martha had also remained happily married, though less was known about her as she had been sent back to the States as a spy later in life. The only notes on her death were that she had died in the line of duty, no other explanations were given.

Torchwood, too, had seen many faces while Jack had been away, too many considering no one seemed to stay alive for more than a couple of years. Now they were down to three: Himself, and two assistants. Tilden, whom everyone simply called 'Til' was the Nurse practitioner, as Doctors were hard to come by in those days assuming the schools were able to exist. Still, she was brilliant and more qualified to be a Doctor than some that remained in society today, and at a ripe age of thirty-seven she was probably the oldest agent to ever remain at Torchwood. Tilden had a shock of jet-black hair that fell around her shoulders in messy curls. She didn't bother too much with it, usually pulling it into a ponytail when working on corpses, but her taste in clothing was more than moderate for a world lacking design and fashion. Jack often wondered where she got such nice shoes from in these times.

His resident Pat technician, (they were no longer called "computers," but a shortened version of the words "personal attendant") Alec was a skinny boy of nineteen, with a mousy brown hair and wire framed glasses that constantly slipped off his nose. Jack had been reluctant to take on Alec, seeing as he was so young, but he outranked anyone on the planet with Pat systems. He could even hack an intergalactic army base when he tried, which he did often to prove himself to the team. It bothered Jack to no end when he pulled something so dangerous, but Alec was still a child and desperate to fit in among them. Every night Jack watched him return to home, thankful that the kid had lived another day. There were times that Alec reminded him of another Torchwood agent who had been eager to always fit in, but the memories were usually too painful for comparison.

Filing was a group effort. If you wrote it, pulled it, killed it, or let it loose, you were responsible for the filing that came after. Both Tilden and Alec had been accountable for labeling artifacts or bodies on multiple occasions. They complained more than their share for Jack to hire someone to take care of all that, but Jack's feelings had hardened since the last team he had led. The fewer people to staff Torchwood, the fewer casualties would befall them; though this was one of his golden secrets he kept from his team to avoid panic. They didn't even know he was immortal.

Jack rubbed the bridge of his nose as he poured over the documents Alec had pulled together on each of the victims. The papers were printed out for Jack to read and he shifted them around while reaching into a drawer for the other four murder files from that week. When he had re-joined Torchwood there had been a scrabbling over printed material versus the large touch screens that were so popular in the days before technological advancements had ceased. Nonetheless, it made Jack comfortable to see everything on paper where he could move things around, or jot down notes where necessary. He smiled inwardly as he recognised the technique Gwen had used from her Police workdays. He often found she rubbed off on him in weird ways. Criminal research was turning out to be one of many.

He scanned through the information on each victim, nothing particularly jumping out at him. The only connection they had to each other was that each body had been found in Cardiff. Jack was already sorry he was taking on this investigation. He didn't want to drag up old memories any more than he had to. Carefully, he piled the folders on top of one another and moved into the meeting room. It was smaller than the one in Torchwood Three, but it had a similar boardroom feel to it. Clearing out a space on the wall where some of the last projects had been left behind he tacked each picture at eye height and studied the corpses. Each one had puncture marks on their necks, indicating the beast either had fangs, or the machine with which they had been killed was pronged. One woman with extremely dark frizzy hair had had her neck broken. Another woman's face had been mangled so badly that dental records were necessary to identify her as a Korean foreign exchange student on holiday. One man had been murdered, along with two more random female victims. Jack spent an hour moving from photograph to photograph before calling his team in for a fresh eye. They needed some kind of plan by sundown before the killer could claim a sixth victim.

Alec leaned back in his chair, chewing some bubble gum that was making Jack's head ache from the smell. "What is that? Nair flavored gum?" He asked, holding out the office bin. Alec frowned as he spat his gum inside.

"It's watermelon. What the hell is Nair?" He asked innocently.

Tilden rolled her eyes. "Something I wouldn't want Jack to explain his reasons for using." Jack flashed her a cheeky grin.

"Are you sure about that?" He asked, earning a reproachful look from Til and an even more confused look from Alec. The boy was smart – no doubt he'd look it up on the Pat later.

Jack set the bin down and walked over to the wall of pictures. "There's a connection here, I just can't put my finger on it," He brought up his hands to block out one picture then another. "Maybe you two can spot something." Jack backed up and sat on the table, rather than one of the chairs.

Alec went through the paperwork in front of him. "Nothing seems to coincide; Volunteer activities, recent hangouts, acquaintances, neither of them match up."

"So let's start from the beginning," Jack moved to slide into a chair. "What _do_ we know about them?"

Tilden went to stand by each of the photographs, reciting names, ages, addresses, and any other bits of information they had found in the last few days. She reached the picture in the middle and pointed, droning on.

"Lisa Trumbull, age 24," Tilden began to ramble as she pointed to the picture of the dark woman. Something snapped into place. Jack jumped up and examined her picture. "What was her name?"

Tilden re-read the file. "Lisa," She began from the beginning again.

Jack put up a hand to silence her as he walked over to the next picture. The woman that had been killed the night before had an interesting license photo next to the one of her wounded body. She was smiling in the picture; her teeth were all neatly lined except for the middle two, which were a considerable distance apart. Jack began to rip down the pictures as he noticed similarities each of them had that he hadn't seen before in his office. The man was nothing special, except that he was tall and fit, with thin lips and a close haircut. A haircut just like Own used to have.

"Damn!" Jack shouted, throwing the papers down on the table. "A woman in her early thirties with frizzy hair; Suzie. A young Asian girl; smart like Toshiko. The dark, young woman named Lisa. A man who looks like it could have been Owen and the most recent one who resembles Gwen's dark hair and smile. Someone is picking of look-a-likes from Torchwood a hundred years ago. Someone who knew who we were!"

Tilden and Alec looked at Jack as though he had grown a second head. "How would you know who was running Torchwood a hundred years ago?" Tilden asked slowly. Jack gripped the edge of the table and looked at them both.

"Company Profiles." He lied.

Alec seemed to think the answer made plausible sense, but he was just as slow to speak. "So who would they target next? There has to be a pattern."

Jack tried to hold on as he searched for an excuse. The killer would be out for him next. Either that or he was sending a message to Jack and the next body would be a man in of considerable size to either Rhys or Ianto, most likely wearing a suit if it was meant to be the latter.

He was halfway out the door before Til and Alec could catch his orders. "Alec, stay here and monitor the CCTV's. Til, you're riding with me." Alec returned to his workstation while Jack got his jacket and waited for Tilden to prepare for the trip.

He paused for a moment at the door out of the hub when he heard Alec shout from the desk. "Aw, GROSS!" Tilden rolled her eyes again. "Would it kill you to keep those things to yourself?"

"Probably," Jack said, not missing a beat as he moved out into the garage and climbed into the van Torchwood now used to get around.

Tilden slid into the passenger seat and buckled her seat belt. "He's only nineteen."

Jack turned the engine and looked at Tilden with one raised eyebrow. "Til, You'd be surprised what a man of nineteen would already know."

Before she could retort, Jack had thrown the car into fifth gear and they were racing through the streets that led around the bay from Bristol to Cardiff.

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February 14, 2110

Jack walked past the old factory on the pier and around to the wharf itself. The night was quiet save for the waves crashing against the dock, his steps landing silently on the concrete as he surveyed the area. A sound of rubbish bins knocking together alerted him and he swung around, gun raised and torch pointing to the alley in the back. A woman giggled nervously as the light shone on her with a man nibbling at her neck.

Jack lowered the gun and flashlight, moving to switch on his earpiece and blushing a little at the unexpected interruption. "Til, the dock is clear. Meet me back at the van; we've got more ground to cover before the sun comes up." It was already six in the morning. Despite the winter solstice, it would only be another hour before dawn would begin to break.

He turned to make his way back towards the street, setting the gun back in its holster when the woman screamed, and not in a way Jack had remembered a woman would from any form of pleasure. He pulled out his gun again and released the safety.

The man who had been with the woman walked out from the alley, wiping blood from his mouth then licking the residue from the back of his hand. He was wearing a fairly old suit, but the light didn't catch his face as he turned away from Jack to head further down the pier. Jack followed him, the street lamp he passed under showcasing the girl's dark curls splayed about the cement by the corner of the alley. She was dead.

Jack cocked the gun in his hand, aiming it directly at the head of the man and stepped closer to him. "Get on the ground, hands above your head!"

The man stopped. He seemed to be thinking about what to do next and raised his arms, almost jokingly, before turning around and laughing at the gun pointed at him. Jack went completely still.

"Ianto?"

The man's eyes opened wider and stared at Jack with cool confusion. "Interesting. You know my name."

"No, this can't be. You're dead."

The man scoffed. "What part tipped you off? The pale skin," he raised his upper lip to show off his teeth, "or the blood lust with matching fangs?" He licked the corner of his mouth absently as though there was still a drop left behind from his last victim.

Jack's brain shot into overdrive. He didn't believe what he was seeing. The thing in front of him, wearing Ianto's face and suit to match that of a PA in the early 21st century, lowered his arms and bowed dainty, as though he were meeting the Queen herself. "Ianto Jones, at your service." He cooed.

Jack began to ramble on about the facts. They were all he knew, this thing that stood before him didn't match up to those facts. It didn't belong here. "Ianto Jones, born August 19, 1983. Killed July 9, 2009 at Thames House in London by an alien species named the 456." It could be an alien, or something messing with his head; something that reached into his personal memories in an attempt to destroy him by driving him mental. Anything!

The being smiled down the gun's barrel. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You can't be Ianto Jones!" Jack shouted as he took in the sight before him. Ianto stood there, paler than Jack remembered him, and yet much stronger, confident even.

"But I am." He smiled wickedly, crooking one finger in Jack's direction. "Come closer, take a look." His voice was smoother than Jack recalled, but the temptation was there.

He moved closer. Slowly at first, then a little faster as the face in front of him remained every bit the same as he had seen it 100 years ago. His arm shook a little and the gun lowered as Ianto's smiled widened. The irises in his eyes glowed an eerily dull shade of red. That's when Jack saw the fangs, two elongated canine teeth that spread down to his lower lip, and he knew exactly what he was facing.

Before he could lift the gun Ianto hissed and sprang at him. Jack shouted and fired three shots into the figure above him, hitting its chest. The body stumbled back, coughing a little before it attempted to lunge at him again. Jack raised his gun again and fired another shot into the side of Ianto's head. The man went still, tipping backwards over the low chains that fenced the wharf and falling into the ocean.

Jack collapsed, hitting the ground as he gasped for air. It must have been raining, there were wet drops on his face and hands, and his heart was beating erratically. He looked up at the sky, stars blurring and lights becoming fuzzy as he realized he was crying. He screamed.

Jack was still shouting when Tilden came barreling around the corner in the van, and jumping out with her gun raised to check the surroundings. When it was clear, she ran over to her boss, kneeling beside him.

"Jack? Jack, what was it? Jack!" Tilden grabbed his shoulders and shook him a littler, more terrified at his reaction than whatever it was that she had just seen. His screaming stopped, but the tears continued to fall down his face and he stuttered as he came to terms with what he just saw. "Vampire." he whispered, a little hysterically.

Ianto Jones was a Vampire.

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AN: I know what you're thinking! But I promise it makes sense, once the other chapters post. Try to keep reading-Pretty please? :) You're also welcome to review!

As always, thank you to my wonderful Betas! Jen and JonesIantoJones :) Without them, this story would be...unedited :P


	2. Trap and Capture

Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood, its characters, or it's backstory. This is not for Profit, I just like to write.

**AN****1****:** Thank you to all of my wonderful reviewers! I honestly did not expect such a positive response to this fic! I hope I don't disappoint :)

Please continue to review! It makes me happy is so many ways :D

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TRAP AND CAPTURE

April 21, 2110

Jack didn't come out of the office for days following that evening, and when he did, neither Alec nor Tilden saw him coming or going. He simply disappeared and returned the next day, usually a stench of alcohol filling the already musty basement.

There was a knocking on his office door that accompanied Jack's current hangover, he ignored it, continuing to stare at the ceiling when the door opened on it's own. "What the bloody hell has gotten into you?"

Jack groaned. "Til, Is there a Weevil on the loose?"

"No."

"How about an unauthorized craft landing?"

"Not today."

"A strange murder?"

"Nope."

Jack stood up and slammed his fists against his desk. "Then WHY are you in here?" He shouted at her, his eyes red and rimmed with circles.

There room blurred slightly and a 'crack' resounded in Jack's ears. When he refocused again, his cheek was stinging. He blinked stupidly at the woman in front of him. "You," He stammered, "You slapped me," He brought a hand up to cradle his own cheek while Til nodded, obviously trying to hold on to her propriety.

"Thanks. I need it," Jack smiled loftily at her.

Tilden just sniffed and handed him the file she had brought in, "Alec did some research on vampires. He was too afraid to confront you himself with it," Jack winced as the guilt set in, but Tilden continued, "Whatever you did last week couldn't have killed it, not unless you had Garlic infused or wooden bullets loaded into the glock." Jack reached for the file and opened it, shaking his head a bit in an attempt to keep the words from dancing across the pages.

"I'll get you some coffee."

Another pang of guilt ran through him.

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April 23, 2110

Jack sat in the van, parked above the wharf. It had been two days since Til had handed him the file on vampires. The information was fairly basic and jumbled together. Not much was known about the vampire species outside of books that had been popular in the 21st century. The only truths they could gather were that Vampires were nocturnal in a completely unconventional sense. Once the sun rose, a vampire would fall asleep, as though they had always been dead, unable to reawaken until the sun fully sets. Reports were drawn of vampires being mistaken for cadavers in schools or morgues in some cases. Of course, if they did not reach an area devoid of sunlight, they would burn. Vampires lived on blood, but unlike most vampire folklore, the Torchwood files noted them as aliens from a planet that had no sun, who landed on earth when their food supply had been wiped clean by a comet that forced most of their home to be encased with ice. It was the strangest report Jack had ever read by a field agent.

Nevertheless, he had made his decision.

Jack climbed out of the van, which had the windows lined with a heavy material they sometimes used when they wanted to transport artifacts or other species through the city unnoticed. It was 1pm and the perfect time to walk around unhindered by executives returning from lunch and too early for school children to be running around.

Jack walked along the edge of the wharf where Ianto had fallen off the pier. The blood from when Jack shot him still stained the ground. A few meters away from where he stood the water lapped at a tube that ran under the pier and back into the city. Jack's shoulders fell as he realised he would be spending most of his afternoon smelling of sewer water.

He spotted a one of the sewer entrances just beyond sight from passersby and climbed back into the van, parking beside it to block his view. He left the van with a Torchwood body bag tucked under one arm. Carefully, he lifted the lid and pulled out his gun, lowering himself into the smelly abyss.

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Ianto woke up to find the sewers were glowing oddly. He sat up and looked around, slowly taking in his surroundings. No, he wasn't in the sewers anymore. Instead, he was in a cement room that was split in half by a large glass wall stretching from floor to ceiling. To his left was a metal door, the top proving to be some kind of air lock where food was probably passed through. On the opposite side of the glass from him there was a short set of steps leading to a door with a key lock on it.

Ianto groaned, stretching to wake up the rest of his senses. He stood up and walked around the cell, finding more than enough room for him to stretch out in. Carefully, he tapped what he had first thought was glass finding it instead to be some form of enforced polycarbonate. A smile crossed his lips as he looked at the sleeve of his jacket. It was clean, which meant he had been redressed at some point during the day. At least he wouldn't smell like garbage anymore.

An hour passed before there was a click of a lock opening and the lights above him changed from black light to fluorescent. He watched as his captor entered the room, allowing for the door to shut securely behind him. They stared at each other for a long while before Jack's lips parted in a grin.

"Welcome. You know, for a while there I really thought you were dead."

Ianto snarled, showing his teeth. Jack continued, "Does that rigor mortise thing always set in during daylight? Cause it was a pain to carry you back through those sewer tunnels in a seated position..." Ianto practically barked, cutting him off.

"Let me out, Jack." He growled, banging on the translucent barrier in front of him.

"So the amnesia back at the wharf was just temporary?" Jack asked, holding onto his smile as best he could.

"You'd be surprised at what a bullet to the head can accomplish," Ianto turned his head to the side to show a small hole oozing dried blood from his head, "You seemed to have hit the right spot."

"You've told me that before." Jack was playing with him, like a game, but Ianto knew the rules this time.

"You always were a cocky bastard," He coughed, still scowling.

Jack only grinned wider, "Well, I couldn't imagine you would forget someone has handsome as me. It was only a matter of time."

"Let me out," Ianto cajoled softly, as though speaking to a child, "and we'll talk." the last word rang with seductiveness, another look that was out of place on the Ianto he remembered. A man who too was shy to even speak of sex on a normal day.

Jack walked up to the glass separating them, "First, tell me, if you didn't remember anything then why send me the dead bodies?"

Ianto lost his patience, "Let me OUT!" he charged the glass from the center of his cell, only to bounce back again. Jack didn't flinch, and Ianto growled at that damn smirk still plastered to his face.

"Like your room? Newly renovated, just for you." He grinned cheekily. Pointing up to the lights "Black light instead of total darkness during daylight hours when you become a stiff again," he let the pun drag through a moment of quiet then turned back to the translucent plate of plexi in between them, "And you've already noticed the glass," he rapped it smartly a few times with his knuckles, "Lexan, enforced with a 3 inch thickness to keep it steady."

"You think this," Ianto mimicked Jack's earlier knocks with his own fist, double enforced by his unnatural strength. "will keep me in here?"

"Not if we intended to feed you often, no." Ianto's eyes widened at the remark and Jack's smile spread in an almost evil way. "Which is why I hope you savoured the last meal you had."

"And what of your companions? Those now running Torchwood up above?" The vampire asked slyly, sniffing at the air to reveal he knew they were walking around above him, as though their scents were intoxicating.

"They can't get in. I've locked this room from the main system; they don't even know it exists." Ianto could almost recognize the smile on Jack's face as the same one he wore when he was proud of a particularly insane idea.

"Still keeping secrets from your teammates, then?" The vampire asked.

Jack frowned, "Get used to it. No one but you and me down here."

Ianto pushed himself away from the wall of Lexan and backed up a few paces, hands on his hips he looked up at the ceiling lights, "And where is 'here?'"

Jack smiled triumphantly. "Torchwood Four, popped up in Bristol about four years ago. We had to abandon Five soon after, anyhow."

Ianto matched Jack's smile, as though he were proud, "You always said you'd find it sooner or later." Ianto smile turned dismal, thinking back to the time when he'd first joined Torchwood at the Cardiff base. He placed his hands in his pant pockets and looked around, noting the fresh installation of the air lock and plate glass. Even the cement seemed newly set in some places. "It's a lot cleaner than Three was. There were stains in that place even I couldn't get rid of."

Jack felt a sense of disarm. He was acting like the real Ianto Jones now. The same Ianto Jones he had worked with for so many years, whom he had relied on in the worst of times, whose bed he had shared and whose body he had slept beside for so many nights. Ianto looked down again and caught his eye, an alien sneer crossing his lips, "Who's the hypocrite now?" The vampire leered.

Jack shook himself from his reverie. "I don't know what you mean." He began to walk back up the steps toward the door. Jack felt had given away much more than he had planned for one evening.

"Feeling lost over an ex lover, someone who died and became a monster," Ianto called out to him, referring to the day Lisa had run amok in Torchwood. Jack paused on the second step, his hand gripping the rail. "Slight difference. You're not trying to take over the universe."

Ianto huffed in disagreement. "I kill to feed and create others in my shadow. Sound familiar?" He mocked.

"You are not a Cyberman." Jack whispered, still holding on to the railing so tightly his knuckles ran white from the pressure.

"I am not Ianto either." Jack stopped walking up the steps and moved back in front of the Lexan.

"Funny, you look just like him. Even answer to the same name." He snapped back.

The vampire's eyes fell to the floor and he turned to walk to the back of his concrete room, "At least, I'm not the Ianto you remember. You should kill me now while you still have a chance."

Jack let an incredulous chuckle escape his lips. "I've got time; and so do you it seems."

Ianto remained standing in the center of the cell, hands still in his pockets and back facing Jack as he looked up at the lights.

"Where did you come from? Who created you?" Jack called after him when the vampire made no move to continue the conversation.

"You already know the answer to that."

A ghost of a smile lay across Jack's lips as he backed up to lean against the cement wall directly across from the tank in a casual manner, "Well then, just for kicks, why don't you remind me?"

A growl ripped through the vampire and in one swift movement he turned to charge at the glass separating him from his captor, "KILL ME!" He screamed, beating against the shatterproof walls.

Jack's smile faded and he shook his head, turning back to the door to leave, "Not tonight." he called back flatly.

Ianto's anger raged on throughout the night.

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October 29, 2110

It had been six months since Jack had locked up Ianto Jones, the Vampire, in the sub basement of Torchwood. Each night after his team left, Jack would walk down the steps to the door with the keypad and punch in the access code to look at the monstrosity he had captured. Ianto had always been a caring man, soft but brave. This being in front of him was nothing but a monster; proud, strong, and full of rage. He shouted at Jack most nights to let him go or completely clammed up if Jack tried to ask him questions, not once giving him anything to eat.

Ianto began to weaken, the quiet between them became more frequent, but Jack continued to visit him. His Ianto, the Ianto he knew, would talk when he felt like it, or when it suited him best, and so Jack waited until he was ready. This night he had brought back a small mouse, the kind pet stores used to hand feed snakes. He tossed it into the air lock and sent it over to the other side of the cell.

Before he could even move back to stand in front of the glass, Ianto had grabbed the mouse and shoved it towards his mouth, the final squeaks of the animal resounding throughout the room in its last seconds of existence.

Jack watched as the man before him breathed deeply, shoulders moving up and down in a slow pattern. For a moment, he expected to see the Ianto he remembered turn to look at him again, but as the being before him turned all wishes were quickly swept away. The vampire's eyes were dilated like a junky with his first long awaited fix. Blood stained his mouth and dribbled down the pale neck as though he himself were bleeding. Ianto tossed the carcass back into the lock like he was throwing out a pair of dirty socks.

A look of disgust must have surfaced onto Jack's face as the vampire grinned devilishly and brought his dead fingers to his lips, licking and nipping them seductively. Jack looked away, retreating to a spot along the back wall where he had left a decanter of whiskey for himself. Ianto watched as Jack poured himself a glass and drew a long sip from it.

"Are you going to tell me why you were trying to get my attention now?" Jack asked again, but Ianto was resilient.

Jack took another drink and sat down against the wall. For some reason, he found himself down here more often than he did in his own bed on the nights when things were quiet around Torchwood. It was almost comforting, in some very twisted ways, to see Ianto pacing around his cell, not saying anything. Then again, Jack was drinking more and more alcohol on those nights too.

"I wasn't sending any kind of message." Ianto retorted after about half an hour. "I already told you: I didn't remember anything until I woke up the next day with a bullet lodged into my skull. Those people they were..." He trailed off, trying to understand what had been happening himself six months ago.

"They were what?" Jack inquired, standing up and crossing his arms against his chest, the glass hanging from one hand.

"Nightmares. I was having dreams that I was killing people, people who I felt close to. I was blacking out from the onslaught of whatever it was I had forgotten."

"So let me get the straight," Jack uncrossed his arms, "You stumbled into Cardiff, just passing through, and were losing consciousness - or whatever I guess you would call it - during the night, killing people who reminded you of your past life?"

"Yes."

"Then I come along, shoot you in the head and everything just comes back?" Jack was pointing at Ianto now, the whiskey in his hand forgotten. For a moment the vampire shied away, something the living Ianto Jones would have done back when he was at Torchwood when he knew he had done something wrong.

"Yes. No. Bits and pieces at first. Getting shot isn't exactly something you walk away from," he paused then seemed to chuckle, "Well, something _I_ couldn't walk away from, even as a vampire. The more I resuscitated myself with blood, the more memories came back."

Jack turned back to the wall and bent over to set the glass by his feet, "Like what?"

With his back turned, Jack missed the grin the crept over Ianto's lips. His eyes bearing the same dim red color that night on the wharf. "Like Tosh and Owen. Visions of Lisa. Bits of information concerning Torchwood and, among my favorites, how to operate the bloody coffee machine."

Jack's back straightened and he turned to stare Ianto down, gauging his reaction. There was a motive in here somewhere. He let the vampire continue, watching him pace back and forth in front of the glass. "How every one else was allowed to leave on the weevil hunts. How under appreciated I was."

"You BEGGED me for that job!" Jack interrupted, despite himself.

Ianto walked towards Jack, as close to the glass as he could get without hanging on it. "I begged you for a starting point! For something that would allow me to prove myself, and you hired others to do what mattered, rather than promoting me!"

Jack's hands balled into fists at his side, "Stop it! You're not going to rattle me!"

"You never trusted me; you kept me in the dark. It wasn't until half the team died that you started to hand me my own missions."

"I said Stop it!"

"Ianto the tea boy. Ianto the housemaid. Ianto the lost pup."

"Stop it Stop it STOP IT!" Jack hurled the glass snifter at the Lexan glass where is shattered into large shards and amber liquid sluiced down the pane like muddy rain water.

The pale figured behind smiled in the dark, the light reflecting of his ashen skin as he savored a small victory. Jack gulped in lung-fulls of air as he tried to slow down the erratic beating of his heart.

"Tsk Tsk." Ianto clucked. "Anger never was a good color on you."

* * *

**AN****2****: **As Always , thank you to my Betas Jen and JonesIantoJones!


	3. Interrogation

Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood, its characters, or it's backstory. This is not for Profit, I just like to write.

**AN: **In the spirit of Halloween, I thought I'd update this chapter a little early :) Especially since the pic that inspired me to write this was created for Halloween last year (which won't seem to let me post a link to?)

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!

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INTERROGATION

December 8, 2110

Jack returned for the eighth night in a row, a new whiskey decanter hanging from his arm. He didn't sit down though, instead choosing to lean against the railing of the concrete steps that lead to the floor which he usually occupied. He was arguing with Ianto's silence, bargaining for more information.

"C'mon," He coaxed after a few minutes, "Just tell me how you survived down there. No humans to feed on, and I know that 'Alligators in the Sewers' thing is just a publicity trick. They're just trying to cover up the Wani invasion of the 1800's. Nasty aliens. Slimy when wet, easily dehydrated, and practically trash compactors when it comes to food. They'll eat anything, which is probably why they choose to hang out in the sewers with weevils,"

Jack continued rambling for half an hour before Ianto rolled his eyes and stood up. In the past Jack had always taken to talking to anyone that would listen to what he had to say. Ianto had never been one to say much, even now, so it hadn't bothered him, but this wasn't the 'good old days' anymore, and the talk of sewers was making him ill.

"Rats," He finally interjected. Jack turned to look at him, having begun pacing across the floors during his one-sided conversation, "I fed off sewer rats."

"And that was enough to sustain you?" Jack's eyebrow had quirked up in disbelief.

Ianto made a face, and for a moment Jack thought he might gag. "Of course not. Why do you think I was still down there when you returned? They're small-minded, insignificant animals. Their blood is full of diseases and the taste is akin to eating nuclear mud." Ianto held his stomach, trying to be sure he really wasn't about to dry heave. "It was them or me. I chose them." he finished after steadying himself.

The sight of a vampire losing his lunch was not something Jack felt like witnessing, even if it had been months since his last real feeding. His joyful mood from a few minutes before had dissipated, leaving the room feeling cramped and dark. Ianto went to sit down again, not prompting another conversation, but the nausea passing as he thought of deer and rabbits, anything that he remembered tasting sweet when he had no humans to feast on.

"Who made you?" Jack whispered through the air.

"Ah," Ianto's elongated canines flashed as he grinned, "You already know the answer to that."

------------------------------

October 19, 2110

Had he wanted revenge for the way things had ended, rather than try to avenge himself for the pain Jack had caused him on the pier, Ianto could have stumbled back to Torchwood on his own. He would have feigned weakness and pity to infiltrate the hub until he'd killed everyone and tortured Jack for his past. The vampire voiced this to the man sitting on the cold concrete floor before him.

"Then why didn't you?" Jack swung another glass full of Whiskey down his throat, belligerence beginning to seep into his words.

Ianto shrugged, "I suppose I didn't have the heart for it,"

Jack laughed at that, and even Ianto seemed to let out a small chuckle at the statement. "Besides," He continued, "It wouldn't have fit in with my original goal."

"And what IS your goal, pray tell?" Jack's words slurred on 'is' as he poured himself another glass.

Ianto shook his head gravely, "Jack, Jack," licking his lips as he repeated the name, "If I told you that, the game would be ruined."

-----------------------------

December 25, 2110

The air lock hissed its usual greeting and Ianto reached in to pull out a fairly large, frightened sewer rat. He frowned as it nipped at his hand, but bit into the neck all the same. It had been months since Jack had fed him anything. It was his way to be sure Ianto wouldn't regain enough strength to break through his cell. When the rat fell limp, Ianto sucked on it one last time before tossing the carcass back into the lock and shutting the door. The fetid smell of rotting flesh already began to waft through it.

There was no look of accomplishment on Ianto's face this time, just the vile expression of loathing one who had eaten something rather spoiled and rotten would use. Jack's arms crossed over his chest and he smiled cheekily. "I remembered how much you liked those." His head jerked towards the rat still sitting in the air lock.

The vampire growled a warning, but did not charge the plexiglass. Jack gave one last dashingly winning smile of triumph before turning his back to the cell, waving a hand as he headed toward the door and switched off the lights again. His voice dripped with sarcasm "Merry Christmas."

----------------------------

January 1, 2111

"Why are you always down here?" Ianto had grown thin again, and he lay in the corner, hugging himself against the cold outside Bristol. Would it kill Jack to give him a blanket or turn the heater on?

He looked over at the man sitting against the floor with yet another snifter of whiskey. This time he had brought a clear plastic cup with him as well as his own glass. The captain poured himself a generous portion before tipping the golden brown liquid again into the plastic cup, reaching the brim. Slowly, he stood, walked over to the hatch and slid the whiskey inside. Ianto waited until Jack stood in front of him again before removing the plastic cup from the lock.

He eyed Jack suspiciously before sniffing the contents. Jack, it seemed, took no offense and lifted his own glass to the vampire before downing his own helping in one large swing. Ianto raised an eyebrow and copied the man before taking his own sip. The alcohol burned down his throat, but warmed him considerably, and he closed his eyes to savor the taste.

"I suppose I pity you." Jack replied, filling his glass again from the snifter.

Ianto sneered. "I don't need your pity." he hissed, before drinking a healthy gulp of whiskey.

They sat there for hours, neither speaking up as they drank into the night.

"It was dark," Ianto breathed so softly Jack had almost missed the words, "When I awoke. I was confused and it was dark. I reached out to find a lamp, but all my fingers met with was wood. I reached to the other side, and then tried to sit up. Each time smacking into the exact same barrier."

Jack could barely breathe. In the year Ianto had been kept down in the underbelly of the hub, he had never talked about his Rebirth. Jack nodded slightly to show Ianto that he had the Captain's attention. Ianto stared into his empty cup, having finished the drink long before.

"The last thing I remembered was seeing your face. Telling you..." He paused, "Talking to you." He finished, not wanting to repeat the three words Jack had never spoken back to him, "The next thing I knew, I was in a box, and it was dark."

"I screamed for hours, hoping someone would hear me. The sun must have risen. I fell asleep, thinking I was truly going to die of asphyxiation from being buried alive; but then I awoke again the next night. I wasted no time that night, and began beating against the wood above me..."

"Jesus," Jack whispered and Ianto looked up at him, "You dug yourself out of the grave?" Ianto nodded, frowning.

"There were some punk lads in the cemetery that night. They were young, stupid, and drunk. I walked up to them in the suit I had been wearing when...in the suit that I had been wearing." A deranged sounding laugh escaped him. "God, it's been hundred years, and I still can't admit that I was dead."

"You are dead." Jack replied.

Ianto sneered, irritated that he had been interrupted, but not wanting to miss the look on Jack's face as he finished his story. "I was confused, disoriented. They tried to haze me a bit. Scare me off and poke fun at me as though I were some old nutter loose in the cemetery.

"One of them pushed me, and I grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. The force alone almost broke his collarbones. I could feel the blood pumping beneath his skin," Ianto barely noticed the green tinge Jack's face took on as he recounted those moments, hand squeezing at the air as though the kid were still within his grasp. It was as though he were reliving it all over again. The hunger and the need to kill already etched into his features.

"I didn't even know what I was doing until my teeth broke the skin," His tongue slid gently over his fangs as though polishing a prized trophy, "The life of the boy coursed through me, and I was already gone, giving into the instinct and raw animal desire." Ianto's breathing increased and he could feel himself growing hard at the memory of such pleasure, "I killed them all within a matter of minutes. Six of them, with a speed I still couldn't understand, but felt so natural." He finished, eyes closed and head back. He took a few more breaths of air, grinning at the ceiling before letting his head loll to the side and opening his eyes where they could fix onto Jack's horror-stricken face.

"You went into shock." The words passed through Jack's lips without him realizing he had even spoken.

Ianto's smiled faded, "Yes. It's known to happen when a vampire awakens without a sire there to guide him." He unfolded his legs away from the wall, eyes never leaving Jack's, his erection persistently tenting his pants, "In that moment I gave in to the darkness; and I never looked back."

Jack's eyes watered over, "Until I shot you," He whispered, as unembarrassed of his tears as Ianto was of his own body's reaction. "You didn't know what you were doing, you didn't have a choice," Jack mumbled, shocked as Ianto stood and launched himself toward the glass at a disconcerting speed in his weakened state.

"DON'T do that. Don't try to humanize what I did." He growled angrily.

"It wasn't your fault! You woke up alone." The tears flowed freely down Jack's face now.

"Because YOU. Weren't. There." Ianto bit out bitterly.

Jack raised a hand to lay over Ianto's from the opposite side of the cell, "How could I? Tell me who did this to you! Tell me why!"

Ianto's anger faded sourly, but the resentment still showed. He crawled back to the corner he had occupied throughout the night, as though he had never left it, and shut his eyes, "I keep telling you: You already know the answer to that."

------------------------------

February 5, 2111

Jack didn't visit for a month after that night. Ianto couldn't say he missed the feeling of all air being sucked from the room, but he was dead bored stuck there all alone, no pun intended.

Jack was binge drinking again when he returned, usually supporting the idea that the day had been rough, someone innocent had most likely died. Ianto rolled his eyes "Doesn't your liver ever get tired of being abused?" He reprimanded.

Jack had brought down a bottle of gin along with his usual whiskey. Both were nearly empty. "That's the thing about being immortal and unable to die. You're liver will never give out on you, no matter how much you drink." Jack's grin was lopsided as he lifted another glass in salute to Ianto before knocking back the whole shot.

The vampire raised a single eyebrow. "Nothing?" He asked incredulously. Jack shrugged.

"Like every other time I get hurt. It affects me, but only for a certain length of time, which always varies. Things just mend on their own, outside and in." Jack's face looked placid before suddenly scrunching up in denial, "You're telling me you've been around for a hundred years and you still don't know this?"

Ianto shrugged as well. "Guess I never paid much attention to it is all."

Jack scoffed drunkenly, "You have to be the most boring vampire to ever roam this planet."

Ianto smirked, not seeming to take any offense from the remark, "At least I was the best dressed." He commented. "Perhaps I should have taken up smoking, too, if my lungs can't get damaged either."

"I never liked smoking. Filthy habit," Jack shook his head, taking light of the situation, "The smell gets into everything: Clothes, furniture, and it will always ruin a first kiss. Every time."

An awkward silence followed Jack's statement and Ianto's mood seemed to deteriorate again. Jack continued to finish off the bottles beside him before passing out on the concrete floor, Ianto quietly watching as his chest rose and fell. It had been a long time since Ianto had been able to watch Jack sleep, and longer still since he had been able to touch Jack or lie next to him. More memories flooded Ianto's head and he ripped his gaze away from the sleeping form of his former lover, trying to suppress the splintering ache in his chest. It felt like the longest night that he had spent in the cell since he had arrived.

--------------------

May 17, 2111

"Funny," Ianto commented airily, as though speaking to himself.

Jack's eyebrow quirked in curiosity, "What is?" It was the first words they had spoken to each other in months.

"Funny how a single year begins to feel like barely a month when you can live forever," Ianto turned to look at Jack, gauging his reaction.

One corner of Jack's mouth lifted slightly and he leaned his back flush against the wall, looking up to the ceiling as well. "You get used to it." He reminisced vaguely. "Time doesn't hold as much meaning as it used to when you're immortal."

Ianto nodded his head in agreement. "Makes those years when I was alive feel rather insignificant."

Jack picked his head up and looked over at Ianto, feeling a little hurt at the remark. Aside from the pallid look on the vampire's face, Jack could almost see the human side of him again. He sighed deeply and pushed the nostalgia away as best he could, "Guess it makes you feel better to know you're not wasting that much time down here then," He stood up and stretched, deciding to get some sleep before the others arrived for the day.

"Perhaps there's someone missing you up there, though?" Jack suggested to the silence, turning with one hand on the door to the upstairs. Ianto had already turned away from him. "Who made you, Ianto?" He repeated for the hundredth time. Ianto simply shrugged.

"You already know the answer to that."

-------------------------

September 10, 2111

"What was it like, when the wars started?" Jack had read up on the Earth's history during his absence, but he still missed out on most recounts of the events that had taken place. Not all bombings or army invasions were covered in detail, and most were just sort of glossed over with 'when Italy took over...' without any talk of how they had taken over, or the people they had captured.

He was horrified to see Ianto's lips twitch in satisfaction, "People ran from the cities. Most left during the day when I was sedated, but sometimes I would find families trying to sneak out in the darkness. Most of the attacks came around midnight or later. People were so desperate to stay safe that the smaller towns were building underground shelters. I'd wait in one during the day, and at night they would flee the falling shells, only to end up as my meal." He stretched his arms and rolled his neck, placing his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling dreamily. "The fear was so tangible in those days. It was like a high, feeding off those families. They escaped one disaster only to die in another," He stopped as Jack growled from the other side of the room.

"Forget it. Sorry I asked."

There was another long silence, but the discussion had seemed to put Ianto in a good mood, "I traveled a lot in those days, moving through France and Spain before spending more time in Italy and Rome than I did the UK," Jack pretended not to be listening, "I didn't care much for Rome, though. The vampires there were rather unaccommodating. I intended to leave at the first full moon and try out Germany when I was abducted by the counsel."

Jack's curiosity got the better of him. "Vampires have a counsel?"

Ianto shrugged, "They like to think they do. An elder who calls himself 'Cassini' runs it. He had heard of my presence and decided to invite me into his," there was a slight pause, "hospitality, for a few days." Ianto trailed off.

Jack had rarely ever heard him talk so much, but he could tell there wouldn't be anymore coming when the silence stretched on for another fifteen minutes.

When Jack awoke the next morning, the black lights had kicked on and Ianto lay in the middle of the floor like a dead body where rigor-mortise had already set in. A chill shimmied its way down Jack's spine at the sight and he turned away quickly. Breakfast didn't seem much like a good idea that morning.

-------------------------------

November 30, 2111

"Did you sire many others?" Jack's curiosity was catching up with him. It had been a year and a half since he'd brought Ianto down here, and he was no closer to finding out the Vampire's origin than he had been since Ianto's story of his Rebirth.

Surprisingly, Ianto nodded and moved to sit in front of Jack, leaning against the glass with his back and looking towards the back of the concrete cell. He didn't continue until Jack had sat down on the opposite side of the glass and poured himself a drink. A human and a vampire sitting back to back with a plate of glass between them, if there hadn't been such a foreboding presence among them Jack imagined the scene would be comical. "Four," Ianto replied. "One girl, three boys."

Jack half snorted. "I guess I still had an influence on you, didn't I? Even if you couldn't remember," He added the last sentence after taking a large gulp of whiskey.

"Even I needed companionship after a couple of years, Jack. They never lasted long, though." Ianto trailed off.

Jack downed another shot. There was something in him that boiled when he thought of Ianto sleeping with someone other than himself. Sure, he had gone out and spent the night away from Ianto while he lived, but that was an entirely different matter in his opinion. Jack's brow furrowed and he looked accusingly at his empty glass as he contemplated this in the silence growing around the room. Dammit, he really was a hypocrite!

"There were a lot of things that stuck with me," Ianto whispered with his own frown marring the words, "For one, the need to keep things tidy all the time."

Jack's concentration broke and he chuckled. "Is that so? How did that work out for you, being the bloodthirsty bastard you had become?"

There was another long silence as Ianto thought about his first few years as a vampire. He pushed himself off the floor and walked away from the glass. Jack could almost feel the connection they had break at the loss of minimal contact. He turned around to watch Ianto standing idly in the center of the cell. He was weaker than Jack had ever let him get, but things had been hectic above ground, and there hadn't been much time to find an animal to feed him that wouldn't return the vampire to full strength.

"There were things, small things, that occasionally pushed themselves to the surface. Sometimes they were so overwhelming I had to fight to control myself. Deep down, I don't think I wanted to remember my first life," He turned again to look at Jack, but the man had already begun gathering up his drink for the evening. Jack's mind spun from the things he'd heard; things Ianto was admitting to. He had wanted to forget Jack, forget the time they spent together. Ianto had fought to let go of everything he had been. Everything Jack had cared for. Ianto had purposely allowed himself to forget before running into Jack.

Suddenly, he didn't feel much like listening to the rest of Ianto's story that night.

------------------------------------------

March 9, 2111

"Did you love her?" Ianto had been silent all night, and Jack had just stood up to stretch before walking towards the door to the upper floor. He stopped his hand on the doorknob, "Who?"

"Gwen. Did you love her?" Had Jack's heart not dropped to his stomach, he would have missed the slight waver in Ianto's voice as he asked his question.

Jack took a deep breath, followed by two or three more, before turning around and releasing the doorknob. He lifted his chin high enough to look at the cell, but his eyes stared at Ianto's feet, so as not to make eye contact. "She belonged with Rhys."

There was a thickness in the air Jack couldn't place and a lump in his throat as Ianto's shoes disappeared from his view. He took another deep breath and walked back down the steps. He had seen the look in Ianto's eyes back then. Every time Jack embraced Gwen, every time he seemed to crumble under her words of praise toward Rhys, Ianto had noticed and Jack had seen how much it hurt him. He hadn't done it deliberately, but there were so many conflicting emotions running through him at that time.

Jack placed a hand on the Lexan and leaned his forehead against the oddly warm window, waiting for Ianto to speak again. Another hour passed before Jack could hear the whimpers subside. A hundred years later and Ianto was still hurt by Jack's actions. In that moment, he felt like the world's biggest fool.

"I always knew she was the reason you didn't love me back." Ianto whispered tears still apparent in his voice. Jack's head snapped up and he stared into Ianto's back. "Didn't love...Tell me that's not what you really thought?"

Ianto said nothing. The lump in Jack's throat grew larger, and he choked over his next words. "Answer me!" He shouted at the figure in front of him.

Ianto's shoulders suddenly stiffened, "You're team is arriving for work." He turned his head a quarter of the way to the side, a nostril flared at the scent of the two humans coming into the sub basement above them.

"Ianto, I'm not leaving. Not until you know that..."

An alarm went off around them. Jack sneered as he wiped his face on his sleeves. Of all the times for something to threaten them! He slid his jacket back on and trudged up the stairs, making his way out of the room without so much as a glance towards Ianto. They would have to finish this conversation another evening.

* * *

**AN:** Hehe-Finally getting closer to the truth! Please review if you have a few extra seconds to spare-I hope this is a good read for everyone!

As Always , thank you to my Betas Jen and JonesIantoJones!


	4. The Confession

Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood, its characters, or it's backstory. This is not for Profit, I just like to write.

**AN: **Finally, the chapter I think (Hope?) you've been waiting for! Please remember to review after!

**

* * *

**THE CONFESSION

March 13, 2111

The door banged shut as Jack practically flew into the room. Ianto looked up at him in mild surprise as the Captain placed both hands against the glass; "We need to talk."

Both of Ianto's eyebrows rose to his hairline, "Good. I was hoping for something new tonight. Gives me a break from the excitement of whatever else we've been doing down here," The sarcasm dripped from his voice like honey from a piece of fruit.

"What do you know about vampire hunters?" Jack asked as though he hadn't heard Ianto's scathing remark.

Despite himself, Ianto picked himself up off the floor and looked at Jack in a serious fashion. "Only that vampires fear them." He spoke, scrunching up his face. "Is that what the big emergency was last week?"

Jack looked pensive, "No, Alec had tripped an alarm from another planet's embassy, and they were attacking our systems with a Pat virus as retribution." It was Jack's turn to look incredulous. "Back up a second. Vampires are actually afraid of humans?" He asked, getting his answer from a curt nod. "They're trained to kill us. Think of Monks on a killing spree. Half kung-fu ninja, half religious nutter."

Jack wasn't laughing, but he wasn't sure he should take that seriously either. "You're joking?"

Ianto sat down again in the middle of the room as Jack contemplated this, only to give in to his first instinct and fall apart laughing, "Really? These guys are what the government is freaking out over?" Jack clutched his sides and let the mirth take him over.

Ianto watched unamused, "Having troubles?" Jack let a few more chuckles give way before wiping tears of laughter from his face and dismissing Ianto with the wave of a hand.

"Visa issues. Seems some of them have a 'Holy Apocalypse' to attend, but they're passports are out of date." Jack removed his jacket and went to sit against the wall again, "They've been giving the British Embassy hell for denied entry into the country."

Ianto folded his own arms, "The less of them there are running around London, the better." He grumbled.

"Oh?" Jack's eyebrows rose again. "And here I thought you vampires weren't afraid of anything." He added smugly.

Ianto shrugged and stretched himself across the concrete floor, not feeling much like talking anymore. "You try dealing with a number of bald athletes who can throw a stake from a full kilometer away to land in your chest. See how funny you find it."

There was another round of chuckles before Ianto threw a dirty look back at his former lover, "Whoa, if looks could kill. Take it easy." Jack chided with a smile.

Ianto's upper lip curled to reveal his fangs, "They killed all of those whom I sired." He roared, and Jack's smile fell.

"I told you my relationships never lasted very long." Ianto growled, before turning away from the glass. He didn't speak to Jack for a week following that night.

* * *

April 21, 2111

Jack lifted his whiskey shot in toast to the vampire behind the glass, "Happy two year Anniversary." He exclaimed blandly.

For reasons Ianto couldn't uncover, Jack had already been rather drunk upon entering the basement. He'd even brought a few extra plastic cups to pour Ianto fairly generous helpings of the whiskey he had carried that evening.

They drank in silence, as was their usual custom nowadays. Just when Jack was beginning to pass out Ianto spoke, "How did the issue go last month? With the hunters, I mean."

Jack shrugged, half asleep, "Dunno. Told the government to piss off, handle their own non-supernatural issues." He grinned with his eyes still shut. Apparently, it was quite a fond memory.

"Cassini feared I was one when we first met." Ianto drunkenly swilled what remained of the whiskey in his own cup.

Jack cracked open an eye, "Cassini, the elder?" He pushed a hand beneath his head and sat up with little coordination.

Ianto nodded, "He believed I was a tool. Something they were using to get to him and, in turn, bring down the centre of Vampire lore."

Jack's face scrunched up at that, "Why would he mistake you for a fake?" He ran the information over in his head again, finally looking to Ianto in wait for an explanation. Ianto wouldn't dare meet his eyes.

"He feared me, just as most other vampires did, back when I mistook fear for loathing. The vampires fear what they don't know, which is pretty much anything that happens under the sun. Even in the time of technology, those who are older live so far underground, Cassini for example, that information is only carried by word of mouth."

Jack's buzz began to fade quickly. Ianto was building up to something.

"It took months for Cassini to believe I was a vampire of my own right. He could tell from the very beginning that something was different about me than other vampires he had met in the world. He would know. He was there when the first vampires were created. He was one of them."

Jack sat up straight now, watching every move Ianto made from the floor of the cell, but the man remained fixated on a spot in the wall that wasn't really there.

"A few years after our first encounter, Cassini called me back to Rome. I spent another couple of months in his hospitality before he brought me to an old dungeon below the ground. It was deep under the rest of the castle, and yet you could see the sky above us. There was a full moon that night.

"That was the night Cassini told me the truth about Vampiric History. Where we really came from," Ianto's voice trailed off as he thought back to that night, but Jack had stood up and was walking over to the glass, hands raised in the air.

"Hold up there," Ianto didn't move, but remained silent in waiting. Jack rubbed the bridge of his nose while he thought back to some of the information he had learned throughout the years, "Vampires weren't born of anything. They were alien beings who landed in the last years preceding the start of AD," silence. "You're telling me this vampire was from that original expedition, right?" Jack felt a little hysterical here. Things were not adding up anymore.

"What I'm telling you," Ianto spoke with a calm that raised goosebumps along Jack's flesh. "Is that everything you know about Vampires is bollocks." Ianto turned, slowly standing to face his long time captor of two years. "The first vampires were born of this earth. They were human before the mutation took them over."

"Mutation? What mutation?" Jack shouted back. This was it. This was what he had been keeping Ianto down here for.

"The virus that took over what is now known as the Greater part of Europe in the earliest of centuries, the virus that was still a weaker and experimental form of itself in those days, the virus," he whispered, pausing for effect "that killed ME."

And the pieces finally fell into place.

"No." Jack whispered before swooping down at the crystal snifter at his feet and hurling it at the floor, where it shattered into millions of tiny pieces, "NO!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, "The 456! They were here! They had been here before even I had first seen them in 1965!"

Jack launched himself at the glass and beat at it with his fists as he watched, as the gleam in Ianto's eyes became practically maniacal. "Tell me! Tell me what you know! What happened back then?"

Ianto laughed hollowly at the sight before him, reveling in the chaos streaming through Jack's face.

"They were primitive beings, even for themselves, the 456. They came and demanded the human children back then, their sickness just barely beginning to make them vulnerable to Earth's atmosphere. Some of the villages revered them as gods. Others were stupid enough to fight against them, and those who did were exposed to the virus. Back then, it was only strong enough to kill a few within each village, but it cost the humans of that time much more to lose just one of their own. The aliens only need run through Britain and parts of Romania before they felt they had abducted enough children, and left the solar system to invade other worlds. After a few millennia they found themselves looping back to land here again. Only this time, we were accommodating them, giving a thirst for more children than they had abducted before!"

"In 1965 you conceded to their demands, and so the virus was not released, you had no knowledge of it even, until they were challenged once again. I was Reborn, just as the First had been; Those in Thames House that night, who died along with me, who were buried by their families all throughout the country; We were a new generation of Vampire, the Rebirth of their history, completing the Circle of Life, of the Undead!"

The room spun in various directions, and Jack's feet gave way. He sank to the floor, holding himself and dry heaving at the knowledge filling him. Ianto had been right. Jack _had_ already known the answer! He had been there the day that Ianto died, shared his last moments as he passed away in Jack's arms. Dammit, how could he be so blindly stupid?

"I don't believe it," Jack started, running through everything that he had heard and everything he knew about the 456 as well as what he recalled from the encounter he'd had with them. Ianto sneered.

"Think about it! How do you think those children were able to remain eternally young? After 44 years they were still in the prepubescent stages of life. Once handed over to the alien species they were exposed to the same virus released in Thames House. When they awoke among a planet full of stars, with no sun to incapacitate them, they were immortal. They were living off nothing but an endless supply of blood from the aliens, and in return the 456 had their ever lasting drug source!"

Jack fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face in an unstoppable flow. Ianto kept screaming through the glass. "How did it feel when you awoke?! Did the sunlight even hurt your eyes? Or were you once again human and unharmed like the rest of us who lay in body bags beside you?"

Someone was screaming. While Ianto shouted into the darkness, someone was screaming and Jack's lungs were hurting worse than his ears. Through the onslaught of tears, the room became fuzzy and dark as the florescent lights blinked and tilted from above. Jack caught one last look at the torment on Ianto's face, the pain of fighting between who he was and who he had become, before his eyes rolled up into the back of his head and the Vampire collapsed onto the floor in a heap of dead flesh and clothing.

The sun had risen. It was mourning.

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**AN:** Hehehe...I think some people actually saw this coming. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Two more to go :)

As Always , thank you to my Betas Jen and JonesIantoJones!


	5. Family History

**AN: **I'm so glad everyone seemed to enjoy the last chapter! Also, I think some people were confused with the last word of the chapter 4. "Mourning" was meant to be spelled incorrectly. It's a play on words for the actions that had just transpired, as well as the indication that Ianto's "Passing out" was because of the sun rising.

Anyways! Please feel free to ask more questions or leave more reviews! Enjoy this next chapter!

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FAMILY HISTORY

April 22, 2111

Jack hadn't gone to sleep how could he? Knowing what he knew; Finding out what he hadn't known; Feeling responsible for the outcome of Ianto's current predicament. Spite, Ignorance, guilt, misery; the emotions flooded him, twisting into one another and weaving about his head as though they were creating a tapestry of anguish to wrap him up until he smothered.

Several empty bottles littered his office, ones that he had been hoarding in case of an emergency. Well, this was an emergency: he needed to dull the pain, to forget if he could. He would get drunk for as long as he could if it would keep the thoughts of what lay in the basement away from him, even for a couple of hours.

He stumbled across the cramped corners of his office until he found another unopened bottle of Jack Daniels residing behind a stack of alien how-to manuals. Breaking the cap's seal, he tossed the cap behind him and took a long swig straight from the bottle. For hours he had been fighting off the urge to come to terms with everything. Even worse, to make a decision on what to do now that he had all the information he'd wanted for over two years.

It would have been better not to know, he argued with himself. It would have been better if Ianto had never told him...no, if he had never brought Ianto down to the Torchwood cells...or if he had never stumbled across his homicidal path in Cardiff. Hell, he should never have come back to this god forsaken planet! Yes, that was where the error could lie, in his decision to remain here for no reason.

Fuck. No matter how he spun it, the whole mess still seemed to be his own fault. Even going back as far as 105 years to the day when he had saved Ianto from a weevil, sparking the endless tirade of requesting work at Torchwood Three. It was all Jack's fault that Ianto was where he was now: Locked up in the basement of Torchwood Four as a blood-sucking, dead body, reanimating every time the damn sun set.

Jack kicked at the stack of books in front of him, but he missed and toppled over instead. There was a crashing sound and a period of dark solace before he felt a bony hand shaking him awake again. Jack blinked blearily as Alec's face came into view, full of alarm.

"Jack?! Are you alright?" He gasped, hooking an arm underneath Jack's own and hoisting him up again. Jack groaned as he felt the concussion knitting itself back together behind his skull. For a few minutes he had actually managed to stop thinking. Maybe he would jump off a building later. Even if he would wake up in excruciating pain afterwards it would beat the alternative for an hour or so.

Alec's face twisted with distress as he cursed at the paper-strewn floor around them. "Bloody bookcase must have tipped right over," Jack stumbled as Alec continued, frowning, "We should get you to a hospital," He tried to lead his boss towards the door out of the office, but Jack untangled himself from the lanky teenager and straightened out his clothing in a befuddled way.

"Pffffft," he slurred, "I'm juss fine." Jack turned around on spot several times before he found what he was looking for.

The bottle of Jack Daniels had tipped over in the fall, but it was still a quarter of the way full. Jack grabbed it and went back to his desk, finding another bottle's cap to screw on top of the liquor container before groping around the desk for his shot glass.

Alec's frown deepened as he watched the scene before him. It would have been comical, had Jack not been in a complete disaster area. Jack fumbled around with the bottle cap again and poured himself a helpful portion of alcohol, splashing some onto the desktop as the glass over flowed. He raised it sloppily towards Alec before downing it again.

Alec sighed and walked up to the desk, "This is becoming a bad habit, Jack," He ventured, not quite sure how to broach the subject with a man who was twice his size and paid his salary.

Jack scoffed again, but Alec took a deep breath. "This wouldn't..." he started, losing his nerve a little, "Wouldn't have to do with the vampire in the basement, would it?"

Jack's inebriated smile fell from his face and he stared at Alec in horror, then confusion, and finally settling on burning anger, "How did you know there was a vampire down there?" He raised an eyebrow accusingly.

Alec took another deep breath, but didn't move any closer to the desk, "I went down there a few months ago. I was running a check on the CCTVs and noticed you nipping into a secured area during the night, so I hacked the door's code and..." he stopped to make sure Jack was still listening. For all he knew, the alcohol had finally poisoned him and his face was frozen in shock and outrage when he stopped breathing, but Jack remained unresponsive. "I went down there while you were out one afternoon on assignment with Til. There was nothing but a dead body in the cell so I scanned it. Even you aren't morbid enough to keep a corpse lying out in the open." He added with a small gesture to lighten the mood.

Jack's face didn't so much as twitch and Alec sighed again. "When the scan came back that it was a vampire I figured it was the reason you've been binge drinking so much these last few years," He motioned towards the bottle Jack was now gripping in one hand, so tightly his knuckles were white and Alec could swear he heard the molecules in the glass beginning to crack under pressure.

Jack blinked as his buzz began to burn clean and sobriety kicked in, "You could have been killed walking into that tank without the sunlight to protect you!" He suddenly screamed, infuriated at both Alec's callous actions and the swift gain of mental clarity.

"But, it was noon..."

"You have no idea what vampires are even capable of!" Jack continued his tyrant.

Alec made another plea for argument but Jack slammed his fist against the wooden desk, cutting off the teenager's reply, "You've gone too far this time! I've warned you about hacking, I even had to apologize to the Uchuu clan for that ridiculous stunt you pulled last week. Do you have _any_ idea what those creatures require as an apology?!" His face was turning red as he yelled at the boy in front of him. "No more. I'm putting you on probation."

Alec didn't even flinch, Jack stood up and leaned over the desk until both men's eyes were level with one another, "What's down there is _my_ business, hence the high security code that keeps it locked!"

At first Alec didn't move, but when he did it was with a sigh as he removed his glasses and set them down on the table, rubbing the bridge of his nose impishly before sitting down in the office's guest chair across from Jack. Jack simply turned his attention back to the alcohol in front of him and unscrewed the cap once again from his bottle of Jack Daniels. He sat down noisily, pouring himself another shot of the amber liquid and bringing it to his lips, ignoring Alec's remaining presence.

"My great-gran was a vampire."

Jack spluttered on the shot of whiskey before it entered his mouth. "_What?_" He asked blinking, but Alec didn't seem to hear him. Instead he was facing the wall lined with metal filing cabinets; his eyes were glossed over and far away from the Torchwood facility, "I was told, or at least I heard, that she was a diplomatic official in her time. She wasn't very pretty, but she was smart. She worked in some kind of Parliament building in downtown London. There was some kind of terrorist strike, viral warfare, and that everyone in the building died, including her."

Jack's mouth opened and closed several times as he tried to form words, but no sound came out. Alec's Great-Grandmother had been one of those hundred or so people in Thames House that afternoon. She had been working there when the 456 released the virus. She had been in there when Jack had threatened the aliens, when he had become the catalyst that provoked them to fight back; When Ianto had died in his arms.

"I don't know what happened," Alec spoke again, oblivious to Jack's thoughts and warring emotions as responsibility for his actions once again painfully flooded his head. "I guess she had been bitten before that day, or maybe she was having an affair with another vampire," Alec's lips twisted as though tasting something bitter. He was just as unaware of the virus which created vampires as Jack had been not 24 hours ago. "Whatever the reason, she woke up a few nights later and tried to return to her home. The whole house was in bereavement, her family...They all panicked at the sight of her standing in the doorway. She was scared, I think, and that's what caused her to do it."

"Do what?" Jack whispered hoarsely, his throat so dry he could have sworn it was hours since he'd had anything to drink at all.

"She killed them. Slaughtered them, really, the whole household. Except," Alec swallowed, his face becoming paler with each word, "except for my gran."

Silence rang through the office as Alec made an attempt to reign in his emotions. It wasn't easy for him to talk about these things, to bring up such memories, but he felt he owed Jack an explanation for encroaching on whatever reasons the captain had for keeping such a thing down in the sub basement of the facility. "It was the blood," Alec rubbed his neck nervously, as though he were trying to protect something personal from prying eyes, "My gran was my great-gran's child, she murdered the entire house; her husband, his family, cousins; but she couldn't bring herself to kill her own flesh and blood, her own line.

"My gran was barely a year old at the time, and great-gran took her away, into the darkness. She raised her on the night sky and fed her raw meat and random groceries from the late night shoppers she killed for herself," There was another pause while Alec's eyes narrowed at the cupboards again and pursed his lips in disgust. "She was twisted, my gran. Growing up under the rule of a vampire, she was a complete nutter, and eventually she ran off during the twilight hours when she was sixteen. Great-gran was devastated, but what could she do? She was bound to the stars, so to speak, and gran was still human.

"When great-gran finally found her again, she was living in an abandoned shelter, weak with hunger and unable to sustain herself in the real world, but that's not all. She had given birth to her own baby girl. The child was still half of Great-gran's blood, so she took it without feeding and left it at an orphanage. That was how my mother grew up."

Jack was glued to his seat as he listened to Alec speak about his family's history. When he had found Alec, the boy had been all of seventeen and alone on the streets himself, but he had never once mentioned anything about his past. "What happened to your gran?" He asked dumbly, still shocked from the tale.

Alec glared at the wall as though it had committed a disservice to him in some way. "She died. The night my great-gran took her child, she just left her there to rot." Without looking away from his spot on the side wall Alec reached across the desk, grabbing the forgotten shot of whiskey and abruptly brought it back in front of him, tossing the amber liquid down his throat.

Jack was still so horror struck that the movement barely registered. "Is that why you were left on the street? You're mother ran away to find her family?" he was guessing blindly on the rest of Alec's story, eager for him to continue, but the teenager's face slackened.

"No," he whispered, "Mum and I had a fine life together. Dad left us when I was just a babe myself, but she was strong and she made sure I had her around to take care of me. At least, until I was eight." He trailed off and Jack noted tears beginning to gather in the young boy's eyes.

"It was midnight. I was sleeping when I heard a knock at the door. I could hear mum downstairs; she always stayed up late to finish her work so we could spend time together when I got home from school." A small smile ghosted over his lips, "I crept across the landing until I could hear her greeting the intruder. The woman knew her name, she sounded young, but I could hear a sort of aging exhaustion in her voice.

"I kept just within earshot of them. Mum offered her tea but she declined. This guest, she started to ramble about how much mum looked like her, and I remember mum was fascinated with that, like her family had finally come to claim her after dumping her in the orphanage. She had always thought there had been a mistake, but there's no telling, really," He cleared his throat and inhaled deeply, preparing himself for the next bit of his story.

"I heard everything from her. How she had been a PA in a diplomat's office, how she had awoken in an uncovered grave as a vampire and hid her own daughter from the sun, and how she had been passing through the city when she caught a scent of her own blood; That was how she found our home. Mum was horrified, but great-gran told her that there was still enough of her own blood flowing through her veins that she wouldn't harm her. I was so captivated, so excited by what I'd heard, that I ran down the stairs without a second thought." He smiled innocently again for a slight moment. "I thought if my great-gran was so happy to learn she'd found her granddaughter, that she would want to meet me, too." His smile fell, "But I was wrong."

Tears began to slowly fall down Alec's cheeks, but Jack remained frozen solid. He couldn't guess what would happen next, but he knew it was nothing good. Alec reached for the left sleeve of his shirt and began rolling up the cuff, and for the first time Jack realized he had never seen Alec wear anything other than long sleeve shirts. He stared at the boy's arm as the fabric cleared a path to show pale skin ruined with pearly white scars all around it.

"My blood was already too watered down, see. Mum was half of great-gran, but between her and my dad, I didn't have enough of the family line in me. Great-gran went mad with hunger the moment I entered the room and came straight at me. I didn't even have time to register it before she pinned me to the floor. Mum ran after her and shoved her off of me, pulling me upright and throwing me behind the sofa," a quiet sob broke through Alec's lips and his voice cracked as he pushed himself to keep talking, still stuck in the same staring contest he had begun with the wall at the start of the tale, "She blocked the only way Great-Gran could get to me, but she was so far gone...she killed mum before I could even blink." Alec sniffled before his head fell forward and he buried his face in his hands. Jack poured him another glass of whiskey.

Alec's shoulders convulsed as he cried, taking great gulps of air in an attempt to calm himself down. When he finally resurfaced he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, further ignoring Jack, "When great-gran had had her fill and was able to register what she had done, she went mad again. The look on her face...it was filled with more agony and regret than I could have ever imagined one person could have," He sighed, "She left without a word. I never saw her again; I hope I never will."

Jack's mouth remained agape as he waited for Alec to snap back to present day. When the boy finally blinked and turned toward Jack, he looked years older than nineteen, and an aggressive frown that was usually foreign to the teenager's disposition marred his face, "Don't let them fool you; they're demons in a human body. One minute they can be completely sane, acting on their own as though they're just like everybody else in the world. The next minute," Alec snapped his fingers abruptly, "they'll turn on you and become the kind of monster you hear in horror stories on Halloween." His eyes were hard as he stared down Jack, who was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to fully assert himself back in Alec's eyes.

A tense silence drew out between them before Alec stood again, grabbing his glasses and moving wordlessly to the office door. When he got there he swung around to face his boss one more time. "I won't touch your vampire, Jack. Whatever it is you're holding him for, it's personal. But, if it were me, I would stake him the moment you're done. If I ever find the woman who killed my mother, I'll do it in a heartbeat, even if it were my last." With that, the nineteen year old computer genius blew from the room, leaving a breathless and ruined man still motionless at the desk of Captain Jack Harkness.

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**AN: **As Always , thank you to my Betas Jen and JonesIantoJones!


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